


Of Course

by Davechicken



Series: The Pilot and his Knight [6]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:36:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poe never loses his cool. Never. Except... well. This one time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Course

Kylo must have worked out that something was amiss. Poe was normally Mr In Control of everything. Or - at least - he gave that impression. He had to, when he was Black Leader. He had to sound calm and sure, even when the altitude warning was blaring, when his astromech was telling him about all the doom just on the horizon, and when _just one tiny mistake_ could mean galactic ramifications… he **had** to sound like he was cool, calm, collected. Any screaming was all done internally, and when no one else saw.

(Except, occasionally, Kylo. He’d woken up a few times in the night, processing a particularly difficult run, and Kylo had always been there to sleepily wrap him tighter in blankets and arms and mumble that it’s okay until one or both of them fell back asleep. Poe still wasn’t entirely used to that, but he was getting there. It was… nice.)

But during the day, he was the picture of togetherness. Normally.

Not now.

Right now, Kylo was off talking to Rey. Rey who agreed to drag him off for some ‘Force stuff’ without needing to know why Poe was so insistent upon it. Poe promised her she’d know soonest after, and that probably meant she already _did_ know, and he was sure that **everyone on the base** must know. Except Kylo. Kylo was, for whatever reason, blissfully unaware that his Pilot was falling to pieces over a casserole. And a chocolate pudding thing. Maybe the recipes were a bit too adventurous, but he wanted it to be _right_.

Good supplies - really good ones - weren’t wonderfully easy to get hold of, but a pilot _did_ have more access than most. Which meant he had also set the table with tall, ivory candles and made a mix of mood music and found some nice wine and dressed up nicely.

Well. He would dress up nicely when he’d finished cooking. He was currently wearing just an apron, and dancing around BB-8, who _also_ knew, and who **also** was nervous.

“Buddy… could you maybe stay just to the side while I have hot things in my hands?”  


BB-8 indignantly bleeped that it wouldn’t ever get in the way.

“I know you wouldn’t, but I’m a wreck, and I might forget how walking works.”  


BB-8 didn’t like the sound of that. 

“No, I’m… look it’s… okay. Okay! I’m sorry. I’ll look where I’m going.”   


His round droid whirled a few more short, sharp circuits and then went to one of the corners anyway. It purred, rocking back and forth, as if trying to calm itself down. 

“Oh _crap_ , I forgot to warm the plates…”  


***

When Kylo got back, Poe was already waiting at the door for him. His lover smiled shyly, and said farewell to Rey, before turning back to Poe.

“…you’ve dressed up. Is my mother here?”  


Poe hoped to hell she wasn’t. “No. Just us.”

“…no special occasion? Do I have to put on my best, too?”  


“You can come as you are,” Poe replied, too quickly. “And you’re a special enough occasion for me.”  


Kylo rolled his eyes at the line, but he let Poe grab his shirt and pull him down for the kiss. “You’re not as smooth as you think, Pilot.”

“Yeah, but you like a bit of rough.” He couldn’t help it. It was like his tongue was living in Innuendo Central right now. “I cooked dinner.”  


***

Dinner went well. Or, mostly well. Kylo had somewhat less of a tolerance for spice than Poe, and sometimes Poe’s ‘tasty’ was borderline ‘ow’ for his boyfriend. Kylo’s eyes streamed just a little, but he did drink the wine a bit faster to compensate. So it wasn’t a total loss.

Poe didn’t even remember what they talked about, for most of the meal, but whenever BB-8 blipped interrogatives, he’d waved him off and off until he couldn’t any more. 

It was… it was now. Wasn’t it? The candle-light flickering over their faces, making the shadows play over features. The full-but-not-stuffed feeling in his belly. He’d not been able to eat that much, because of the butterflies, but he’d tried. The soft, insistent thrum of music, and a boyfriend who meant the galaxy to him. He did. Poe just loved him so much he lost all his cool and reserve around him, and… BB-8 whirled back and smacked into his ankle under the table. Poe agreed, and then reached over to hold Kylo’s hands.

Maybe should have moved the empty plates.

“Did you do something wrong?” Kylo asked. “Is this your way of breaking something to me gently?” His lips quirked in a way that said he _actually on some level considered it an option_ , and Poe hated that.   


“No! No. I just… Kylo. I… I need to say something. And I need to just… say it. So you have to not interrupt me, because I–”  


Kylo’s slightly-watery eyes narrowed, that smile that went so deep inside and barely needed to move his lips at all to smack a hole in Poe’s whole chest. “Okay.”

“I love you. I do. I love you so damn much, Kylo. I love how you’re so brave, and so good. Even after all that stuff that happened, you’re still _you_. Still **Light** , with… with… I had a whole speech prepared, but I just–”  


Still holding his hand, he kicked sideways out of the chair and went down on one knee. 

Kylo’s eyebrows reached for the sun. “Poe…?”

“Would… would you do me the honour, Kylo? I don’t want to even _think_ about a world without you in it. I just - I love you. And you don’t - I mean, I don’t even know if you _want_ to get married, and maybe I should have thought to check, huh, but–”  


Poe stopped talking, because Kylo bent down and kissed him into silence. Still that hand in his, and the other behind his head. Kylo kissed him like he did that first time: full of fire, fury, confusion, and _hope_. It was a heady mix, and he kissed him right the hell back. All the way until Kylo broke - panting - for air.

“…so that’s a…?”  


“You idiot,” Kylo whispered. “Of course I will.”  


BB-8 cheered, then opened up the tiny section in its chassis, where there was a simple, thick metal band. Etched on the inside, the symbol of the Resistance. Poe fumbled to get it out, and - when Kylo held his finger out - slid it into place.

It was… it was really happening.

Kylo had said _yes_.

***

Dessert kind of went by in a blur. Kylo insisted on eating it, after all the effort Poe had put in, but neither of them had much appetite for food, by that point. Kylo - never one for really initiating contact - had sent text comms to several people while Poe dished up the chocolate pudding.

Poe’s heart broke all over again as he felt his own comm buzzing with what must be congratulations from every single person Kylo knew. He hadn’t expected Kylo to be the one to break the news, but he found it made him even happier that his shy… fiancé… was so pleased that he did it himself. 

It was real. They were engaged. Kylo had said _yes_.

BB-8 was still purring, going between their legs and insisting on the contact, as if it was nearly exploding with as much joy as Poe and Kylo themselves. 

And then - then Poe couldn’t take it any more. He stood up, and he held his hand out for Kylo’s comm unit. “I never thought I’d need to ask _you_ to put that down.”

“I just… you know… most people keep saying ‘about time’… how many people did you even _tell_?”  


Poe flushed hot. “I asked your parents for their permission. And… Rey to babysit you. And maybe Snap helped me with the ring, and–”

“…you told _everyone_ ,” Kylo said, sounding horrified and elated in one. “So sure I’d say yes?”  


“You did, didn’t you?”  


He had.

***

Eventually all comms devices were set to mute, and BB-8 was put on guard duty, and Kylo and Poe were left with the weird, buzzing silence after the event.

It was like the world had changed forever, but also like nothing had changed at all. Poe had known for some time now that Kylo was _it_ , for him. And Kylo probably knew that much sooner, truth be told. Poe wondered if the man would ever have dared propose, or if they’d just have grown old together, misadventure aside. 

Kylo was his. Would be his. Would always be his. And it made his heart sing and his hands itch and his tongue feel like popping candy and his head swim like when you stood up too fast. Kylo was _his_. 

And now… now he wanted him. So very, very badly. Normally they’d just gradually make their way to the bedroom, but today it felt different. Today it felt - like the first vow. And Poe wasn’t afraid to _take_ the vow, not by a long shot. It was just going to be their first time, as a betrothed pair. And it wasn’t like it would _factually_ be different from the day before, but it… it was.

And they hadn’t had a new first in a while. So it was about time.

Kylo sensed his reticence and slid his hand against his lover’s. Palm to palm, fingers winding between the gaps. He lifted it up, and kissed his knuckles, and Poe laughed. “Aren’t I supposed to be seducing you?”

“If we do this right, it’s not til the wedding night, anyway,” Kylo pointed out.  


“If you make me wait for that, I’ll get your father to fly us out and marry us on the _Falcon_  then and there.”  


“My mother would never forgive you for that.”  


Kylo was probably right.

“I’m not going to make you wait, unless you want me to,” Kylo said, instead, and again that smile that broke him. It was equal parts sweet and shy, and how anyone had ever thought this man was a monster was beyond him.  


He’d done monstrous things, but he had this… this strange sense of _innocence_ , even now. Poe didn’t know how he hadn’t gone utterly mad, irredeemably so, but he hadn’t. He kissed each knuckle in turn, and Poe’s breath stopped as he watched him. 

“Maker, I love you,” he hoarsed out.  


“Maybe as much as I love you.”  


A finger and a thumb pinched his tall lover’s chin, and held him in place as Poe kissed him as hungrily as he could manage. He prised Kylo’s lower lip away from his teeth, then dragged his tongue into that dark, wet heat… and then the moment of chastity was broken, and they were stripping between kisses and hops from foot to foot to remove pants or boxers or shoes or socks. 

Kylo had been so embarrassed by nudity to begin with, but if you got him turned on _just right_ (and Poe always did), his frigid and inexperienced lover turned into some kind of sex-maniac freak. One who was currently stuck in one sleeve, and one pants-leg, and Poe laughed and yanked the shirt off, and stood on the pants, and waited for him to yank his leg free. 

Then they were naked, and still standing in the middle of the room, and _still_ kissing like crazy. Kylo’s hands in his hair, and Poe’s hands on _his_ rear, and then Poe felt himself lifted up bodily, and he bent his legs and was about to try for leverage when Kylo went backwards in a rush and Poe was flying in a way he _really_ didn’t expect to be doing tonight. Kylo landed on his back, and Poe landed on top of him, and then Poe sat up and grabbed for Kylo’s hands, and held them, just for a moment. Just for a moment. Making it last, before they let themselves move on.

He was straddling his waist, kneeling, sitting with his ass just gently on Kylo’s crotch, and then Kylo had his hands on his upper thighs - pale on golden - and Poe just gazed heatedly down at him.

“ _Maker_ , but you’re beautiful,” Poe told him, fingers spreading wide and ghosting across the faint, silver-web scars and larger, warm-pink battle marks. Every one told a story, and most of them he knew, now. This one was from a training incident under Luke’s tutelage, that one was a sparring session gone ugly with his Knights, that one was… that one was… medicinal.  That was all he knew. Surgery, or something else… he didn’t know.  


“No,” Kylo said, “But _you_ make me so.”  


Poe lowered his head to kiss constellations between battle-lines and the smattering of darker flecks, making his own stories with his tongue and lips. He found Kylo’s hands and pinned them down, his hair brushing over nipples, over torso, as he worked.

Poe’s mouth was full, but Kylo moaned enough for both of them. He arched under him, his wordless cry loud, then soft, then LOUDER, then soft once more… Kylo always felt ill at ease as the centre of attention, but he _deserved it_. Deserved more happiness than Poe could ever give him, but he’d try his damndest. His tongue came out to lap at a bare nipple, and Kylo _howled_. Such a simple touch, but he liked those just as much as the ones with more power behind them.

Everything felt so much _more_  right now, and Poe was light-headed with the meaning. The way Kylo’s thumbs slid over the bumpy, bony part of his own, or the way he called out Poe’s name when he kissed him. He let his mouth trek up to seal around his throat, and Kylo’s reverberating _hum_ underneath was glorious. He broke free, and laughed - just once, just _happy_ because he **had him** , he had him and he was all his, and he could kiss his chest every day from now until the end of their days if he wanted, and _Kylo was his_ , his delicious whirlwind of power and hope and broken past and glorious future, and maybe he’d gone mad.

Maybe he had. He sat back up, and shimmied backwards over his legs.

Fingers touched him, his own chest, his cheek, his thigh, and then he beamed at the whorled fingers that left burning heat in their wake. 

“You’re all mine,” he whispered.  


“I am,” Kylo promised. “All of me. Always.”  


Nothing he could do would ever be enough. Nothing. Poe could sky-write Kylo’s name against a black hole, and it wouldn’t begin to be loud enough. Could kiss him awake every morning (and he _would_ ) and it wouldn’t be close enough. Could hold him so tight his hands _shook_ and… and…

It wasn’t even about just need and arousal, now. It was about so much more. Poe sat down on Kylo’s legs, and he gently wrapped his hand around both their cocks at once. It was almost a _shame_  to do it, to **stroke** them, to chase an ending… but he’d kissed him all over and he just - he LOVED HIM and why couldn’t he say it in a way that meant it right enough? He felt Kylo’s hand on his face, and the strange sensation of the metal band there, and he just - he _lost it_.

Lost it, and started to stroke them both roughly off. Kylo’s gorgeous cock, pressed into his own. Unfocussed brown eyes and full, parted lips and the way Kylo’s chin trembled when he was feeling things too deeply. The curl of fingers around the back of his neck as the softheathardyes sensations got so loud. The way Kylo’s right heel drummed the bed below them, and the way his stomach tensed, and the way his hair fell around his face like a black solar flare in reverse… the way his breathing went _ragged_ and nasal and then **hiccupy** and Poe was _so very very very very very very_ much in love with him.

He couldn’t even say anything. Just watch him, and their eyes snapped together, and neither one could blink. He couldn’t look down to see the way their shafts slid a little to each side and back between his rough, hungry tugs. The poking out of his palm and the slight dribble from _one_ or **both** of them that made his hand go slicker. The way Kylo’s balls tensed, and Poe’s did, too, and the way somehow Kylo was _there inside his mind and Poe didn’t mind one damn **bit** because he lived inside his heart and that meant more and then they were coming and he didn’t know who started it off, but he knew Kylo’s hand joined his and they stroked together and he thought maybe he cried out but it was difficult to tell and on and on and on and on…_

On and on…

…until there was nothing left in either of them, for the moment, and two hands were coiled around their softening dicks, their mixed ejaculate splattered like a victory-salute over both of them, and Poe just felt his heart _shatter_ all over when Kylo grabbed him in to kiss him breathless.

 **I love you** , he thought.

And he was sure - somehow - he heard the answer: _I know._ And then: _I love you, too._


End file.
